


Build Me Back Up

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Sexual Assault, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Sexual assault recovery, Slow Burn, ron weasley is a cinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26879767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After Sofia is assaulted, she struggles to return to her old life. Everyone treats her differently, her parents refuse to speak to her, and she only blames herself. Ron Weasley is the only one who believes in her, the only person she trusts. Will their bond be enough?READ NOTES FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS! Keep yourselves safe!National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673
Relationships: Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. The Beginning of The End

**Author's Note:**

> TW: sexual assault, attempted rape

It was all too much. The classes, the professors, the claustrophobia of my dorm. Not even bothering to change out of my flimsy pajamas, I slip out of my room and into the dark hallways of the castle. 

“Lumos,” I whisper softly, conjuring up a blue glow at the tip of my wand. The corridors are all deserted, Filch has long gone to sleep, but I’m still cautious until I’m outside. The cold air hits me right away and I shiver but don’t turn back. It’s refreshing, a perfect distraction from the stress in my head. I wander into the orchard near Hogwarts, listening to the gentle rustle of the trees. The noise in the dead silence is comforting. 

Until it isn’t silent anymore. A twig snaps behind me and I jump, spinning around quickly. There’s no one, no figure emerging from the darkness. 

“Hello?” I call out. No answer. It must have been an animal. I turn back to the orchard and gently brush my hands over the low-hanging branches. Then there’s another noise, closer this time. I grab for my wand and spin around, but before I can do anything someone grabs my wrist, disarming me, and pushes me into a tree, the bark scraping my face.

“Get off me!” I yell, struggling to wriggle free. Strong hands bind my wrists together as I thrash wildly. Once I’m securely tied, the mysterious stranger grabs my waist and turn me around. I recognize him, he’s a seventh year I’ve seen around the school. He smiles lasciviously.

“Hello, darling,” he says huskily. 

“Get the hell away from me!” I yell at him, still struggling against my binds. He just laughs.

“Oh no, we haven’t had any fun yet.” His hand cups my neck and he kisses me roughly. I bite down as hard as I can on his tongue, making him yelp in pain and draw back. Blinding pain strikes across my face as he slaps me.

“Bitch,” he growls under his breath. I look at him defiantly and spit in his face. He laughs again, but there’s an evil glint in his eye. Before I know it, he’s pulled out a knife and is tracing it gently over my throat. My breath hitches as he hits the small concave at the base of my neck. Without warning, he slices downward, cleaving my pajama top in two and leaving my chest exposed. I instinctively try to cover myself, but my hands are bound. He chuckles again.

“Not so high and mighty now, are we?” he says mockingly. 

“You’re despicable,” I say, my voice full of fear and anger.

“Trust me, darling, I know.” He puts his arms around me, groping and kneading my ass as he kisses and bites my neck. I try to pull away, but his grip is strong and I’m pinned. Hot tears build up in my throat.

“Stop, please,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. He delivers a particularly rough bite to my collarbone.

“I don’t think so, love.” He continues his journey down my neck, spending copious amounts of time lavishing my skin. I thrash, trying to kick him, knee him, anything, but he just chuckles against my skin and continues.

“Why are you doing this?” I cry out. He lifts his lips from my neck and looks my straight in the eye, face centimeters from mine.

“Why? Because I want to. I’m going to do whatever I want with you, and then slit your pretty neck, and dump your body in the water. It will be a great tragedy, won’t it? The whip-smart, shy little Ravenclaw goes missing, never to be seen again. They’ll mourn, sure, but eventually, you’ll just be forgotten. A ghost of a memory in your friends’ minds.” He runs his knife over my skin as he speaks, watching my reactions intently. I’m silent, glaring at him with as much anger as I can muster. As he goes back to marking my skin, I allow myself a few tears. I will not break in front of him.

One of his hands drifts farther down, tracing a finger gently up my thigh. I gasp and wriggle again, but it’s no use. He dips inside my pants, violating me in every way.

“Stop, please, stop.” I push against him, trying to get away. Desperation builds inside me as he continues. I can feel him smile and laugh against my skin. He mocks me as I try to escape him, grasping for freedom. I gasp as a finger enters me. A sob breaks out of my throat, against my will, and I shudder under its force. My protests grow louder, begging him to let me go, but he ignores them. His violation of my body continues, adding another finger as his mouth still makes its marks on seemingly every inch of my skin.  
When his mouth breaks from my skin, I have a moment of hope that is quickly crushed as he begins to tug the waistband of my pants down, keeping eye contact with me the whole time. I’m sure my face is red, tear-stained, and full of hate, but that doesn’t stop him from kissing me gently.

“You look so pretty when you cry,” he murmurs. Another sob racks my chest as he slices through the fabric covering my thighs. I’m almost fully exposed, the remnants of my shirt hanging open, with only my underwear covering my lower half. My oppressor smiles cruelly, looking my body up and down. He reaches a hand and hooks the waist of my underwear on his finger and slowly starts to pull. I close my eyes as he does, trying to block out the situation. Suddenly, the tug disappears. My eyes fly open.

My attacker is on the ground, his face repeatedly being smashed in a flurry of punches. Obscenities fly left and right, from both parties. I watch in shock, barely processing what’s happening. When my rescuer stands, I recognize him.

“Ron?” I whisper, hardly believing it. He nods and wordlessly moves towards me. I flinch involuntarily, and his eyes turn sad.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” he says softly as he moves to untie me. My wrists are red and sore from struggling against the rope. Ron inspects them for a moment, holding my hand gingerly in his. He’s kind, gentle, and I’m overcome by gratitude. Before I even really decide to do it, I wrap him in a hug, my arms around his neck, my face buried in his shoulder.

“Thank you,” I say against his shirt. He puts his arms around me as well, one hand gently stroking my hair. As I’m in his arms, I realize I’m almost completely naked and a flush of embarrassment hits me. Ron seems to notice this as well, and he hastily pulls off his jumper and hands it to me, averting his eyes. It falls down my thighs, gently brushing just above my knees. The scent of cinnamon and Butterbeer consumes me. Ron takes the rope from my hands and binds the unconscious boy on the ground to a tree.

“Let’s get back to the castle, yeah?” he says. I nod and step forward, but my legs are shaky and I would have fallen if Ron hadn’t caught me.

“Sorry,” I say quietly. Ron looks at me, his expression sad, and shakes his head.

“Please don’t apologize for any of this. It’s not your fault.” He pauses. “Is it okay if I carry you?” he asks. I blush red but nod, knowing I’m probably not going to make it up the hill with as bad as I’m shaking. Ron ever so gently picks me up bridal style, and I gingerly put one arm around his neck. He gives me a small smile.

As he treks up to the castle, I let myself rest my head on his shoulder. He is careful to not jostle me, climbing steadily and with ease. Something odd hits me as we approach the great doors.

“Ron?” I say quietly. “What were you doing out there?” He looks at me, his eyes holding mine.

“I’ve been hearing that git talking about this for weeks. I thought he was joking, trying to impress his friends, but when I heard someone sneak out of the common room I had to check.” His voice is harsh, angry, and I’m afraid I’ve offended him.

“I wasn’t trying to accuse you, I promise,” I say, feeling tears start to build again. He stops and looks at me again, scanning my face, his expression regretful.

“I know. I didn’t assume that, okay? Asking questions is completely reasonable, okay? You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His voice is pained. I lean my head back down, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you,” I repeat finally.


	2. Examination and Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: reference to sexual assault, panic attacks

When we reach the castle, Ron brings me straight to the infirmary and bangs on the door. A very disheveled Madam Pomfrey comes to the door, her lecturing words dying on her tongue when she sees me. 

“Oh dear, bring her here and set her on a bed,” she says, gesturing us inside. Ron lays me gently on one of the first beds and sits down next to it. I suppose I look scared, because he begins to reassure me. 

“You’ll be okay,” he says, his voice quiet and comforting, “Everything’s okay now.” Madam Pomfrey grabs several bottles and boxes and brings them to my bedside.

“Alright, Mr. Weasley, off to bed. You can visit in the morning.” Panic wells up in me.

“No, no, no, please, please let him stay,” I say frantically. Ron takes my hand and gently rubs his thumb in circles, trying to calm me down.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He looks up at Madam Pomfrey. “Could I stay tonight please? Or just for a while longer? You need to know what happened, I could answer your questions.” 

The kind nurse looks between us for a moment.

“You’ll need to leave the room while I examine her, but you can come back after that and answer some questions, alright?” Ron looks to me, silently asking my permission. I nod slowly, and he gives my hand a final squeeze before getting up and leaving the room.

Madam Pomfrey’s examination lasts only about ten minutes. She concludes that the sores on my wrist can be easily fixed, and there’s no other harm to me physically. I’ll leave the hospital wing in the morning. When she calls Ron back in, I’m relieved.

I’ve never been close to the youngest Weasley boy. I suppose I could call us friends, but acquaintances would be more accurate. Still, I feel much safer when he’s around me now. A pang of fear strikes me when I realize how dependent I’ve made myself upon him. 

He sits down and takes my hand again. Madam Pomfrey sits on my other side and looks at me sadly.

“Dear, I know this is going to be hard, but I need to ask what happened.” I swallow hard. Ron smiles at me reassuringly.

“I…” I swallow again. My throat feels like it’s closing over. “I snuck out and went for a walk. In my dorm, in the castle, I felt like I couldn’t get enough air. It was stupid, I know, but…” Tears cut me off. 

“Ok, it’s ok, you’re doing great. Take your time,” Ron says, stroking my hand with his thumb.

“Ok. Ok. I went for a walk, and I was in the orchard. It was silent, I was alone, but then I heard a noise and someone pinned me against a tree and,” I take a moment, a deep gulp of air, then continue. “And he bound my hands. When he turned me around, I recognized him, but I don’t know his name. He had a knife. He cut my shirt open, and he said he was going to kill me. He said he was going to slit my throat.” My voice is cracking, tears and sobs cutting me off, but I struggle through the sentences. I halfway compose myself and go on. “He… he touched me.” The sobs take over my body, racking my body. It feels like my ribs are cracking, like I can’t get any air. 

“That’s enough,” Ron says to Madam Pomfrey. “Give her a break, ask me questions now.” I don’t hear their conversation, even after I stop crying, even after I go numb. It feels like I’m floating in a vast, empty place. And I’m alone. Terribly, horribly alone. 

This is what I deserve. I was stupid, I was careless, I gave someone the perfect opportunity. This is my fault. 

My whole body hurts. I can't get air in my lungs, I can't breathe. I'm scared, anxious, I feel like I'm imploding in on myself. Nails scrape against my skull, sandpaper runs over my throat. 

Everything hurts.

And it doesn't stop. It won't stop, I can't get it to stop. 

Please make it stop.

Ron’s voice takes me back to reality, but the pain, the fear, it all lingers. 

“Sofia? Hey, talk to me,” I realize that I’ve been hyperventilating, curled up in a ball. Ron carefully reaches out and brushes a piece of hair from my face. I do my best not to flinch. Slowly, I lift my head up.

“Sorry,” I say quietly. “I didn’t know what was happening.”

“I’ll tell you again, every time. You don’t need to apologize for anything.” I nod a little bit, biting back the urge to apologize again. 

“I told them who it was and where to find him. He’ll go to jail for a long time.” Ron’s eyes are hard as he speaks, but I know it’s not directed at me. We sit in silence for a little while until the infirmary doors open. Professor Dumbledore walks in. Ron and I glance at each other.

“Hello, Miss Matthews. I regret the circumstances under which we are speaking. Your attacker has been given to the Ministry of Magic, and I am sure he will be convicted. You and Mr. Weasley will most likely have to testify.” At that, my eyes go wide and I squeeze Ron’s hand, but Dumbledore just continues. “A letter has been sent to your parents, alerting them of the situation. You will be given any special accommodation that you require. I understand that Mr. Weasley here had a large role in bringing you back safely?”

“He’s the only reason I’m here, sir,” I reply. I feel a little calmer, the panic is fading. 

“Very brave, Mr. Weasley. A letter will be sent to your parents as well.” He turns back to me. “Is there anything that I can do for you as of now?” I look at Ron, afraid to ask for what I want. A flash of understanding crosses his face.

“Professor Dumbledore, would it be possible to change my schedule to match Sofia’s?” he asks. My heart swells. He’ll be there.

“That will be in order. Anything else?” I shake my head. Dumbledore gives me a kindly smile and leaves. 

“Are you sure you want to be stuck with me all the time?” I ask timidly. Ron looks surprised.

“I’m not stuck with you, Sofia. I choose to be there for you. And I’ll always be here, okay?” I nod.

“Okay.”


	3. A Promise is Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: panic attacks

Sleep evades me. I watch as Ron drifts off in the bed next to mine, his face relaxing as dreams take him away. Every time I close my eyes, though, all I feel is terror. Masked men and monsters wait until I cannot see them to pounce upon me, and this times there is no one to come to my rescue. 

When sleep finally claims me, I relive the evening, but my attacker is a faceless man, and no one saves me. I wake up screaming and grasping at my throat, sure that I’ll find a bloody gash. Ron jolts awake and runs to me, grabbing my hands and pulling them away from my neck before I can scratch myself any further.

“Sofia, I’m here. I’m here, it’s okay. Come here.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him as I tremble.

“He was there,” I sob into Ron’s shirt. “He was there, and you weren’t, and he killed me. It was so real.” 

“I know. It seems real, but it’s not. He’s gone, and I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Sofia. I’m here.” He strokes my hair, letting me cry against his shoulder. I’m shaking, both from fear and from the sobs racking my body. It’s a long, long time before I can calm down. I lose track of time. Ron sits and holds me, silently comforting me. When I finally catch my breath, he smiles down at me and disentangles me from his arms. As he stands to go back to bed, though, I grab his hand.

“Please stay,” I say before I can stop myself. He looks surprised but nods and lays down with me, putting his arm around me and letting me rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t understand why he’s so willing to help me, but right now I decided that’s a problem for another day. Something about Ron makes me feel safe.

Nightmares continue to plague me, but every time I wake up Ron tucks my head into his chest and comforts me quietly until I can drift back off into troubled sleep. 

When I wake up the next morning, Ron is sleeping peacefully next to me. He’s relaxed, his hair falling in his face. It strikes me in that moment how handsome the boy next to me is. I suppose he feels me staring, because he lifts his head and blinks a few times before focusing on me and smiling a little.

“Feeling okay?” he asks. I nod a little bit.

“Thank you,” I say, then pause. “For staying.”

“Of course. Anything you need, okay?”

Madam Pomfrey examines my wrists again and declares them healed. Magic does wonders, I suppose.

“Alright dear, you’re free to go,” she says after she finishes inspecting me. “And Miss Matthews? I’m so terribly sorry about what has happened. If you ever need anything at all, come talk to me.” She smiles kindly at me and I manage to return it. Ron holds my hand as I get out of bed, still not releasing it after I’m steady on my feet.

“So, your dorm first?” he asks as we leave the infirmary. I look down and realize I’m still clad in only his sweater.

“Um, yes. Please.” He nods and we begin to walk towards Ravenclaw tower, our hands still joined. I’m beginning to drown in the silence, fears pulling my thoughts this way and that with no way to distract myself. My hands go shaky again and I shut my eyes hard, trying to clear my head. 

“I have six siblings,” Ron says. I look at him, surprised. He smiles and continues talking, and I realize. He knows that the silence is killing me, but that I won’t talk readily. He’s drowning everything out and I’m so, so grateful.

“Charlie, Bill, Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny. Charlie lives in Romania and studies dragons…” he continues, telling me all about his family, his home, everything about his life. I focus on his words, pushing back all the bad things crowding my head, and learn about Ron’s life.

We reach my dorm and he waits outside while I change into my robes. It’s empty in my room, peaceful, but there’s nothing there that I can focus on besides my own brain. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I pull on my skirt, my shirt, my robes. As I tighten my tie, I begin to panic. 

His knife on my throat.

His lips on my skin.

His hands.

His hands are everywhere. 

Ron comes running in. He kneels and pulls me against him, my face buried in his chest. Murmurs and whispers of comfort reach my ears but not my brain. I hear nothing, I see nothing, I feel nothing except pure fear. My lungs heave, clutching at air they will never find. I will die here, my body giving up on itself.

Slowly, slowly, I become aware of my surroundings. I’m on the floor. My knees hurt, I must have fallen. Someone’s holding me. It’s Ron, Ron’s holding me and his voice breaks through the panic, finally reaching me. 

“You’re okay, everything’s fine. You’re safe, you’re safe. It’s okay.” A slow, continuous monologue. 

“Ron?” I whisper quietly. My throat hurts, making my voice raspy. 

“I’m here, I’m here. It’s okay.” His hands gently strokes my back. 

“He was here, Ron,” I say with a shaky voice. “I felt it, I heard it. He was here.”

“I know, I know. It feels real, but it’s not. It’ll get better.”

“Promise?” I ask quietly.

“I promise.”


	4. The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of sexual assault, vomiting

Ron and I go to breakfast together after I collect myself. As soon as we walk in, the Great Hall erupts in whispers. Dumbledore must have said something. I look at Ron, feeling a bit panicked. He smiles and walks towards the Ravenclaw table, holding my hand behind him. 

“Ron, you’re Gryffindor,” I say quietly.

“Schedule adjustment, remember? I’m on Ravenclaw time now.” I manage to return his smile as we sit down. As soon as we do, I’m assaulted with questions.

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?”

“Why are you with Ron?”

“Who did it?”

I start to panic again. My breath comes in short jumps. 

“Leave her alone!” says Ron, cutting off the noise. “It’s none of your business.” I take a sigh of relief. I don’t deserve his help, but I’m grateful for it still.

“Thank you,” I whisper to him. He nods with a smile and grabs some food. I follow suit, realizing how hungry I am. As soon as I swallow a bite of food though, I feel sick to my stomach. For a moment I’m stuck between eating and being sick, or not eating and being hungry. I decide to eat slowly. It works for a while. I get quite a bit of food down before my stomach flips around and I know I’m going to be sick. 

The nearest bathroom is right outside the Great Hall. I stand and walk as quickly as I can towards the door without getting unwanted attention. As soon as I make it out, I break into a full on sprint. The vomit rises in my stomach as I move, threatening to break free. I slam through the heavy bathroom doors and into a stall. My knees, already sore from this morning, slam into the ground as I empty my stomach. At some point I hear Ron asking if I’m okay from outside the door, but I find myself incapable of answering. My throat burns, my legs shake, and I can’t stand up. 

“Sofia, please answer me.” Ron’s voice is scared, sad even.

“I’m-” I start to respond, but my voice cracks painfully. 

“Sofia?” he calls again. I take a deep breath.

“I’m okay,” I manage to get out. My stomach still churns and I gag, but there’s nothing left to come up.

“I’m coming in, okay?” he says. The door creaks. Footsteps approach me, and I feel arms pulling me to my feet and letting me relax against a strong frame. 

“Are you alright?” he asks gently. I nod a bit. He keeps an arm around me while we walk to Madam Pomfrey’s. She gives me some medicine to help me keep my food down. Ron and I walk to class. We’re ten minutes late for Charms, but no one says anything. 

The day is… normal. I go to class, take notes, keep my food down at lunch. I find myself smiling as I talk with Ron. He promised it’d get better, but I thought it would take longer. 

That evening at dinner, Ron suddenly reaches into his pocket.

“I completely forgot! You got mail today at breakfast.” He hands me an envelope. It’s from my parents.

Sofia,  
Your father and I received a letter from Professor Dumbledore detailing your actions. Disappointed does not begin to cover how we feel. Sneaking out, engaging in unspeakable acts, and getting a perfectly upstanding boy expelled? We expected better from you. As of today, we will no longer welcome you as part of the family. If you’re old enough to disgrace the family, you’re old enough to live by yourself.  
Regards,  
Mr. and Mrs. Matthews

My hands shake as I drop the note. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews. Not Mom and Dad. Not a part of the family. It’s my fault, I’m a disappointment. God, I’m so stupid. My parents loved me and this is how I repaid them.

“Sofia? Are you okay?” Ron looks concerned. I wordlessly hand him the note. He scans it quickly, then looks at me with large eyes. 

“I deserve this, it’s my fault,” I say, tears welling up in my eyes.

“No, no, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault, okay?”

“It is, it’s my fault, Ron.” My words are jumbled, pouring out of me in a rush. “I snuck out, I didn’t fight, I could have done more, it’s my fault. I let them down, I disappointed everyone.” I’m beginning to draw attention, people are starting to stare. Ron puts his arm around me and guides me out of the Great Hall, sitting us down on a bench.

“Listen to me, Sofia. The boy who did this to you is just that: a boy. A stupid kid who thought he could control you. This isn’t your fault. If it wasn't you, it would be another girl. I won’t let you blame yourself for this.” His voice is tender, gentle. I lean my head on his shoulder.

“Ron, I don’t have a family,” I say. My voice cracks and another sob rips through me. It feels like I’ve been crying all day, and I suppose I have. 

“Yes, you do. You have a family here. You’re a part of my family now, okay? You aren’t alone, not even close.” 

“It feels like I’m alone. I know you’re here, and I’m so grateful, but God, Ron, I feel so… guilty. No matter how much I try to convince myself that this wasn’t my fault, it never works. It feels like my fault.” Ron is silent for a moment, contemplating what I’ve said.

“I wish I knew how to help you, Sofia. I wish I could convince you that you did nothing wrong, that you don’t deserve this.” He sounds heart-wrenchingly sad. I wonder, for the thousandth time, why he cares so much. I barely know this boy, and he’s completely devoting himself to caring for me. 

I hope more than anything that he keeps his promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are appreciated <3


End file.
